Unholy Waters
by PieFeathers
Summary: Since a teen Dean has been haunted by nightmares, nightmares of a man in the old house in his hometown. But Dean is drawn towards this man, Castiel, and is soon entrapped under his spell, and witness to the horrors Castiel brings. Soon Dean discovers that what he believed to be a fallen angel is something much worst, and much more ancient and horrific. Destiel, AU, No Hunters
1. Chapter 1

_**Hey here's a new story. I promise to work on Castle of Glass and the other supernatural fanfictions I have. This story is a little different than Castle of Glass, this one won't have a happy ending and it isn't really that happy of a story at all. It's a horror/mystery but it has angst in it. I guess you could say there is romance in it. The main pairing is Destiel, although it's more one sided than anything. This story may start off kinda happy but it won't last long. This story will go in and out of both Dean and Castiel's perspectives.**_

_**Warnings (entire story) - **_

_**Gore, Violence, Major Character Death (end), M/M, Brief Non-Con, Language, Suicide Attempt, Stockholm syndrome?, Abuse (Verbal and Pyshical), Murder**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural :(**_

Growing up there were always rumors that the large house on 8th street was haunted. This was fueled by the older teens daring younger kids to go to the house on Halloween or the adults that told their children to stay away. Dean Winchester had grown up hearing the stories, and he had never actually seen the reportedly haunted building before. It was the first day of fifth grade that changed that though, it was when his father's car broke down and he had to walk to his school.

The days were still warm, but the air had a crispness to it that signaled fall was around the corner. Leaves had started to turn and a few lined the sidewalk that Dean and his younger brother Sam were walking down. The younger Winchester clung to his older brother's hand, scared of his first day of actual school. The first grader pulled on his brothers shirt and looked up at him. "We aren't going down that way are we?" Sam asked his eyes flicking towards the street that held the house.

Dean rolled his eyes, he wasn't scared of some stupid old house. "Come on Sam it's not like a ghost is going to pop out and grab you." He laughed tugging him along with him. Sam tried to protest but he was soon dragged along with his brother. It was a shortcut to the school, and Dean didn't think much about the house that was there. There were other houses on the street, but most were abandoned or had elderly people living there. As they drew closer to the house Dean could feel Sam's grip on his hand tighten and suddenly they turned the corner and were faced with it. Dean stopped in his tracks and stared up at it wide eyed. The house had been once white with black details, but now it just looked grey. No color, no life at all. The grass was brown and over grown, and there were bramble bushes growing up along the side of the house. Dean could see why everyone called it haunted.

"Dean...lets go!" Sam whined and pulled Dean's hand. Dean didn't say anything and instead kept staring, searching the windows. They weren't boarded up, and there were lace curtains in them. The lace was yellowed and dusty, and Dean could of sworn he saw one of them move. He turned to tell Sam he wanted to go take a look but the little boy was gone. Dean could see his brother already down the street walking away and he swore. He turned back once more at the house ready to leave when he saw it...or rather a person. They were standing on the third story, staring out the curtain raised. Dean panicked and ran after Sam yelling for him.

Through out the years Dean walked that same street to school everyday. Sam would beg for rides from their dad and Dean would refuse. He never slowed down to look at the house again, but he would give one window a simple glance, and each time there would be the person staring back. Eventually once Dean turned 17 though he couldn't take living with his controlling alcoholic father anymore. He dropped out of school and stole his dad's Impala, and with everything he owned in a bag he decided to leave. But not before making one last stop.

Dean shut off the car engine as he sat there in front of the house. He wanted answers tonight...he got out of the car and for the first time ever he finally set foot on the property. He made his way up the cracked stone walkway, being careful not to step on the weeds that were growing through the cracks. The wood stairs groaned underneath his feet and he winced hoping he wasn't waking whoever lived in the house. He heard an animal hiss and run off, he wasn't sure if it was a cat or a possum. Dean made his way across the porch, glad the rotting wood didn't give under his feet and he tried to look into the window. The same old lace curtains were in the way and he couldn't see anything, not in this light and it appeared that there were no lights on in the house.

Taking a step back Dean decided that he should go, he didn't want to get in trouble for trespassing. He turned to leave and stopped hearing a door open slowly. He looked at the front door and almost jumped back. The door had been cracked a little and was being held back by a hand, that seemed too light compared to the surrounding colors. "I-I'm sorry for waking you." Dean said trying to calm his beating heart. "I didn't mean to trespass. I just...I wanted to know who lived here." He heard a small chuckle come from whoever was behind the door.

"Only me..." A gravely males voice said and Dean felt dread just listening to it. "And I wasn't sleeping." The man said, and he moved his hand out from the door holding it out for Dean, who stared at it confused. "It's rude not to shake hands if you just met, or am I wrong about this aspect?" Dean carefully shook the other mans hand, noticing that it was rather warm to the touch and a strong firm grasp of a young man perhaps a few years older than Dean himself, not what he was expecting.

The man kept a hold of Dean's hand for a little bit more before digging his nails suddenly into the teens hand, causing him to tear his hand away. Dean fled swearing as he looked at his hand, blood dripping from the scratches. He got into his car and sped away as fast as he could not looking back; all the while deep blue eyes watched him curiously and the man gave his bloodied nails a lick, a smirk on his face.

_**12 years later...**_

_**Dean**_

There was only one reason why I would ever come back to this damned town, I always told myself, and it was when my old man was being buried in the ground. Well here I was, standing in the cemetery dressed in black with my brother standing beside me. The alcohol had finally killed him, and as much as I hated to admit it I cried a little. Cried mainly for the memories growing up before my mother died, and the home videos of my dad playing with me...before he became a drunk. I could hardly blame him, he had lost his wife.

I know I was lucky that our father didn't hit us, but the ignoring and yelling struck us just as hard as any blow. I loved my father and I know he loved us...but I don't remember ever hearing him say that to Sam or me.

I was shaken from my thoughts by Sam who had placed his hand on my shoulder. "How about we get some drinks?" He offered and I nodded, that would be great. I probably would get a motel room and try my hardest not to sleep. I often wondered how I never crashed Baby when I was so tired. I tried to stay awake as much as I could...the nightmares...god those nightmares.

They started soon after I left Lawrence, soon after my confrontation with the man in the house. I rubbed my hand, shuddering as if I could still feel the marks left by his nails. And the voice...his voice was what I heard in my dreams, the terror I felt when I heard the low, gravely sound. The terror...and a bit of excitement, as if it belong to a tiger and I was up close and personal with it. I hated the feeling I got whenever I heard his voice in my dreams, it would only come out one of two ways then; either a blood soaked nightmare filled with screams and tearing of flesh...or a wet dream that had me waking with a mess in my boxers and my heart racing. I wasn't sure which one was worst...

But no matter how much I tried to tell myself I hated it, or that I didn't need sleep the truth was...I loved it. There was a part of me that craved going to sleep and hearing that voice, and the image I had of him in my head. For some reason I couldn't get the image out of my head...I don't know where it came from. One night during the dreams I simply said I wanted to see your face, and a man appeared...I had never seen him before, but he felt familiar. He looked like an average man, a few years older than myself, but his eyes...they were so blue. Often I just wanted to stare into them but the man would have other plans for me.

I sighed and looked back at the cemetery as I opened my car door. Perhaps coming back here would help me bring some closure, and maybe end those dreams. Getting behind the wheel I smiled over at Sam who was sitting in the passenger seat. "So...you've been here a few times to see Dad before he died right?" I stated thinking. "Is that old bar Dad used to go to still around?" I asked and Sam nodded.

"Yeah...I think Ellen is still running it. She would love to see you." Sam said, turning to look out the window as I started to drive. "Jo went off to college somewhere, I don't remember where...I get a Christmas card every year from Ellen. You should give her your address, I'm sure she would love to give you one too." I nodded, that sounded like a great idea.

We arrived at the bar a little before eight, I dropped Sam off and searched for a place to park. When I entered the bar I was greeted with the same sights and sounds as I remembered. The air smelled of stale beer and grease, but the bar itself had a light cheery feeling to it. I found Sam chatting with Ellen and she immediately came around the bar when she saw me.

"Oh let me look at you!" She said giving me a hug and then pulling back to look me over. "You have grown quiet a bit since I saw you last. How many years has it been?"

"12 ma'am." I said and Ellen swatted my arm, giving me a dirty look.

"Don't call me ma'am, it makes me feel old. I get enough of that from Bobby." She laughed and went back to behind the bar.

"Hey speaking of Bobby, where is he?" I asked. Upon hearing a cough from behind me I turned to find Bobby, still with that beard and that damned hat sitting in a wheelchair. "Bobby...I...what happened?" I asked, saying the first thing that came to my mind.

"Well it's nice to see you too." He huffed. "I got in an accident a few years back. Broke my back...I'm lucky I'm still alive." Bobby said moving past me. It felt strange to see him like that, Bobby was the father to me when my real father was passed out drunk. He was the one who taught me how to drive and he even took Sam and I deer hunting a few times when we were boys. "Still...I'm glad I'm not sharing that ground with your father just yet...poor bastard." Ellen yelled at him for swearing, but I didn't hear the rest.

My eye caught a woman, staring at me. She had some cards in front of her but I couldn't see what they were. Ellen must of seen my looking cause she showed up beside me, arms folded. "That's Pamela...poor thing's blind as a bat. She's a good woman...although she says she's psychic. If you believe that kind of thing. Go ask for your reading or something." Ellen nudged me forward, and I found my feet taking me there by themselves.

I wasn't sure how she was doing it if she was blind, but her head moved with me as I moved around some tables to get closer. Once there I sat down across from her and opened my mouth to speak but she cut me off. "Winchester? I assume your the older one, I scared your brother Sam a little too much the last time he saw me...I don't think he's coming back for his second reading." She smiled and I couldn't help but imagine my brother terrified of this woman.

"Look...I don't really believe in this kind of stuff...but I'll give anything a try." I said and she grabbed my hands, making me jump a little. Her hands were cold as if she had been out in the winter weather too long. "Okay...I think-"

"Do not go looking in the house." Pamela said and I stopped. What house? I couldn't help but wonder what she meant by that. Or was that just part of her act?

"Alright...I'll bite. What do the heavens have in store for me?" I joked and she snapped her head up to look me dead in the eye, this made my smile fall from my face.

"There is no heaven. No heaven ran by angels. No heaven ran by god. They have been witnesses to their death, and the destruction created by darkness." She whispered and I tried to pull my hands away but she was holding onto them too tightly. "The eyes of ocean...they hold no mercy. They hold no love. Only hatred and anger...and hunger. It demands to be fed, it demands to get revenge. The ancient horror...it will have you." She said in a loud voice.

I was shaking, and I pulled my hands away from her my heart racing. What the hell had she been talking about? The house, and angels...and ancient horror? What did that have to do with anything? "Thank you...that has been very interesting, but I should go now." I said and stood up getting away from her as fast as I could. Sam saw me and ran after me as I left the bar.

"What happened? What did Pam say to you?" He asked and I ignored him. What scared me the most was her description of eyes...eyes of ocean...blue eyes. Could she of known? No impossible. I looked up at Sam and sighed.

"I need to go for a drive...I'll call you later when I get to my hotel." I said and got into Baby, driving off as fast as I could. I didn't know where I was going, I just wanted to put space between me and that psychic. I had my doubts that she was fake, and I was scared by what she had meant by everything. I pulled to the side of the road and shut the car off groaning. Coming back here wasn't helping me at all...I looked out my window and almost had a heart attack. There it was, on the other side of the street...the house. I glared at it before taking off my seat belt and getting out of the car, slamming the door.

I came back here to get closer, and if that meant going back to that house then so be it, I was going back.

_**A/N: If you liked it please leave a review thanks! I'll post more as soon as I can!**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Dean**

My heart raced as I climbed those stairs again after so many years. I was terrified but also curious. What had happened to the man that resided in it? Was he gone? Was the house now abandoned? I wasn't sure if I wanted to know the answer to these questions. The porch groaned under my weight, and I had the sudden fear that I would fall through to the dusty spider filled darkness that was under the boards. I raised my hand to knock and for a split second I was scared, scared of what could be on the other side...scared that the man of my nightmares would be waiting for me. I shook the terrifying images of blood filled nightmares from my mind and knocked firmly on the door, the thick wooden door muffling the sound a bit.

Silence. That's all there was. No wind, no cars...just silence. I shifted my weight and the sound of the porch boards underneath me once more broke the deadness and brought me back to the reality of everything. I finally decided to push on the door, to see if it would open. After a few pushes with my shoulder it finally budged and I fell into the house. The smell of dust and mold attacked my nostrils and I moved back coughing a bit, and in turn fell back against the door shutting it once more and plunging the room into darkness. I fumbled for the door handle but I couldn't find one. Quickly I lit a lighter and tried again to pull on it. It wouldn't move. Swearing I looked around but couldn't see anything as I had kicked up the inches of dust that laid on the ground.

I found my way to a wall and began to walk slowly, the dust finally settling a bit. The house itself seemed to be making a creaking noise, and I swore I heard movement from the floor above me. Taking one step at a time I slowly made my way in one direction, stopping only to make sure I didn't trip on the debris that was littered everywhere. I wondered how long it had been abandoned. It had to of been since I left, surely no one in their right mind would live in such a mess?

I found the stairs and turned to go to the left, wanting to finish searching the bottom floor. The main room led into a study, and I found a lantern. The room illuminated with a low glow as I lit it, the furniture creating shadow creatures that danced about from the flickering flame. I let out a small breath of air as I could finally see better and I turned running right into a man, causing me to yell out and jump back in surprise landing on the ground.

**Normal POV**

There was a man in the house. _His _house. Whispers filled the air, whispers only he could hear. _Hush. Be quiet. He might here us. _The voices say, the fear causing a twisted smile to come upon the dark haired man's face. Dark delight shone in his eyes, the streams of moonlight that came through the boarded windows and curtains made his eyes seem to glow. _The fire...the fire... _The voices moaned and cried, apparently forgetting they could be heard.

One foot on the stairs, followed by another. His footsteps were muffled by the thick carpet that lined the staircase, and he ascended down to the main floor in a hurry. There was an intruder in his house, and he would make sure to take care of them accordingly. The lower floor was darker than the rest of the house, no moonlight coming through the windows nor candles lit to guide any visitors path.

He could see the other man now, he could see his dirty blond hair and he knew who it was. The boy...he reached out to touch the man but was surprised when the other ran right into him, and he simply stood there staring at the man on the floor.

"W-What? What the fuck?" Dean shouted jumping up off the ground. "I didn't realize someone was living here." He grabbed the lantern not wanting to walk back into the house in the dark. He paused when the stranger gave him a small smile. Dean's skin crawled from how the other man was staring at him.

"Dean..." The man said and Dean dropped the lantern. The same voice from his dreams...the same voice from all those years ago. If Dean had thought rationally he would of realized the man was far too young to have been the same person from before, but Dean wasn't thinking rationally and he ran. He knew the door was locked so he ran up the stairs, thankful that there was some light up there.

Running down the hall he heard a laugh coming from behind him further down the hall and he ducked into the nearest room. Dean closed the door a little but left enough room for him to look out.

"That's very rude Dean." He heard the man say, although he couldn't see him. _If you can't see him then he can't see you. _Dean thought to himself. "We never had the chance to speak. You are always asleep when I go to see you." The man stepped into Dean's eyesight and he ducked further into the room, creeping into the darkness, the room's only window covered in a thick curtain. He stubbed his toe against a bookshelf and he swore under his breath. This must of alerted the man who pushed the door open and let out a sickly sweet, "Are we playing a game Winchester?"

Dean's blood ran cold and he hid behind the very same bookshelf. He silently prayed that he would go away, and for a split second he thought he had. Dean let out a shaky breath but was cut off by the man appearing in front of him. "Now we are going to talk." The man said before pressing his fingers to Dean's forehead causing him to crumple to the ground unconscious.

_Whispers...Whispers. _They always tried to speak when he wasn't listening. But that was their flaw, he was always listening. Every part of the house was his domain and he knew what went on in it. He turned his gaze Dean who was slowly waking up. The green-eyed man seemed to realize he was in danger as he tried to get up but found he was tied to the chair. He looked around confused before his eyes fell on him...

"Who are you?" Dean growled. The man smiled and sat on the desk in what was, as Dean could tell now, a study.

"Castiel." The man finally said and Dean sneered. What the hell kind of name was that? "Do you know why your here?" Castiel asked and Dean rolled his eyes.

"Well I'm kind of assuming because you wanted me here? Although I have a few questions like how the hell you kept finding me to whisper at me while I was asleep? That's creepy." Dean said and Castiel shook his head.

"I haven't left this house in fifty years." Castiel said and Dean paused frowning.

"Fifty? You don't look that old...maybe a few years older than me, but no way you are over fifty." Dean scoffed, really what was this guy playing at? Dean knew this man must have been in his room all these years, even though that too was impossible. Dean was always all over the country trying to escape the voice, but it always found him no matter where he was.

"I never visited you psychically..." Castiel said gently brushing his hand against Dean's cheek. Dean sneered and snapped his head away from the other mans touch. Castiel withdrew his hand and smiled at Dean, but the action held no warmth or happiness and it made Dean's skin crawl.

"Let me go..." Dean decided to beg, seeing as being confrontational and running hadn't worked. "Please...I have a brother that needs me...I have a job. I have a girlfriend!" He lied hoping that would work but it seemed to only make Castiel angry as he grabbed Dean by the throat.

"Do not lie to me Winchester! I know every detail of your life. Your jobless and haven't had a steady girlfriend in five years." Castiel growled and Dean's eyes began to water from the pressure on his windpipe. He struggled against his binds to get free but stopped once Castiel pushed him over.

"There's something your going to learn Dean Winchester, and that's I am in charge here. I could kill you if I wanted." He threatened standing up and leaving the room, leaving Dean in the dark room alone.


End file.
